Moments
by With The Pigs
Summary: One-shots focusing on Ron and Hermione at different times. Short and Sweet.
1. Chapter 1

**Harry Potter does not belong to me.**

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><p>Peaceful moments were so hard to come by when you were on the run, constantly worried about being discovered. She remembered nights spent alone outside the tent, sitting by the fire, hoping nothing would pose a threat and that they'd get through another day. That was as close to peaceful as she ever got. Even that was tainted.<p>

But now that was all over. There was no more running. No more hiding. No more sleepless nights spent in her cot, staring up at the ceiling of the tent, wondering. Wondering if her parents were alright and happy in their new life. If the Weasleys were doing as well as could be expected in a war-riddled world. If Ron was safe and if he would ever come back to her.

The thought of Ron always brought tears to her eyes. The things he had said right before leaving them hurt the most. But in the back of her mind, Hermione knew that he was not to blame for what happened that night. He was just as scared as she was or even Harry. He had a family to worry about. And that damn horcrux seemed to affect him the most.

She knew what Ron had been thinking, that she loved Harry instead of him. She would never forget the hurt look on his face before leaving the tent that night. She needed to make sure that she never saw that look on his face ever again. But with everything that had just happened, with all the people they had just lost, she knew that it was easier said than done. She was willing to try her hardest though.

She walked the halls of a broken Hogwarts School looking for that one head of red hair that would make all her worries disappear. While walking, she came across many people, some sitting, some talking. Others crying and mourning. There was something else in their eyes though. Something that gave Hermione hope that one day, all would be right. There was a look of relief. She wondered if she would find that same look in the blue eyes of the boy she had kissed just hours ago.

After searching for what felt like hours, she decided to try the Hogwarts grounds. Her breath caught when she saw him sitting on the edge of the lake, his eyes straight ahead, throwing rocks into the water and watching it ripple. She sat down next to him but he didn't look up. He just continued to stare.

Hermione started to panic. What if he didn't want her? What if he changed his mind? What if he kissed her because they were in the middle of a war where anything could happen and he just wanted to do something before something _did _happen? She didn't know what to say. And so she said the first thing that came to mind.

"Can we make this work? I mean, can we _really _make this work? It just seems like every time we're making progress something comes and messes it up. And I know we've all just been through something traumatic. And I know that Fred just died and that you and your family have a lot of healing to do. But I'd like to believe that through all this mess we can make things work because I –"

"Hermione" he said it so softly, almost as if he didn't want her to hear it. "Let's just sit for a while okay?"

She looked at him then, studied him for the first time in months. His hair was unruly, sticking in every direction as if he'd just rolled out of bed. His hands we covered in mud, his clothes were torn, and on his nose, just like when she had first met him what felt like decades ago, was a large streak of dirt. It was the same boy she remembered and the same one that she'd loved for so long.

It could all wait.

She grabbed his hand and entwined their fingers, looking out at the sunset. "Yeah, let's sit".

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading! Feel free to review!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**HELLO! I decided that I would continue to write this just as a series of one-shots. I do plan on writing about other characters in the future but for now I've focused on Ron and Hermione**

**Enjoy!**

**I don't own Harry Potter**

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><p>Ron watched as Hermione tried to fit yet another box of her belongings into the small closet of his – or rather, <em>their <em>bedroom. With ever sigh of frustration he heard coming from her, Ron grew more and more amused. The closet was already filled to capacity with his clothes but that didn't stop her from trying to make space for her own things.

"I don't know why you're bothering," he said. "it won't get you anywhere"

"Well then what are we supposed to do? We can't just have our stuff lying around the flat!"

Ron couldn't help but smile thinking about the night that led them to this moment. He and Hermione had just apparated back to the flat he shared with Harry after a night out with her parents. They were seated on the couch, reminiscing about their time at school when things had gotten, well, _heated. _Harry had chosen that moment to walk through the front door.

"I know you're trying to make up for the six years you spent with your heads up your asses but this is getting ridiculous!" I hadn't been the first time that Harry had walked in on one of their displays of affection. Ron had never seen an outburst so big though. He thought his best friend might explode by the way his face was turning a rather violent looking shade of red. "I'm leaving!"

When Harry said he was leaving Ron had no idea it meant that he would start looking for a place of his own. He wasn't ready to see Harry go yet.

"I know I made a big fuss about walking in on you and Hermione but the truth is I'm gonna need a place of my own sooner or later and it just makes sense to start looking now."

"Why would you need a place of your own?" Ron had been confused. He thought his and Harry's living arrangements suited them both perfectly. They were close enough to the Burrow without feeling completely smothered by Mrs. Weasley while being within a short distance of Diagon Alley.

"Well, like you Ron, I may need my own space where I can be free to spend some quality time with my girlfriend whenever I'd like" Harry had raised his eyebrows as if to say, _you know?_

"Oh. OH! I _really _don't need to hear about that!"

And so that is what led him to ask Hermione to move in with him. She had been surprised at first and insisted that they were moving too fast. But after hearing him declare how much he was looking forward to waking up next to her every morning, she could no longer resist and easily relented.

Now, after hearing Hermione sigh for what seemed like the thousandth time, Ron decided to get up and help her, knowing that the sooner they finished the tedious chore of unpacking, the sooner they could get to the heated things that brought them to their new living arrangements in the first place.

He picked up a garment bag that was laid out rather neatly in her trunk. Curious, he slid the zipper down, wanting a peak at the piece of clothing inside. As far as he knew, Hermione didn't wear dresses all that often. As soon as he saw the dress that was in the bag, Ron was taken back to that night all those years ago when he knew for sure just how he felt about Hermione.

"Haven't seen this thing in a while," he said while waggling his eyebrows at her. Hermione turned around and blushed at the sight of the pink and purple dress that she had worn to the Yule Ball when they were fourteen. She bit her lip, shooting him a worried look, and Ron knew she was wondering if he would get mad at the thought of her attending the ball with Viktor Krum.

He grabbed her hand and led her to the bed where they sat down.

"There are so many things I regret about that night."

"Yeah?" she whispered it as though she didn't quite believe him. "Like what?"

Wanting to reassure her, Ron picker up her hand and placed the lightest kiss on her wrist before telling her the mistakes he made that night.

"Well for starters, I should have told you how bloody gorgeous you looked," Her cheeks immediately flushed the most beautiful shade of pink. "And I definitely should have asked you to dance. More than once." She laughed because they both knew that Ron didn't dance.

"And as long as we're talking about regret I might as well tell you that there isn't a day that goes by that I don't regret not getting up the nerve to ask you to that damn ball myself," he said.

"None of that matters anymore." She looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

He placed his hand on her cheek and leaned down to press his lips gently against hers, so happy that they had worked through everything and were now living their lives together.

When the heaviness of the conversation had lifted, Hermione stood up and shot Ron a beautiful smile.

"Maybe one day I'll wear the dress for you. So we can recreate that night and make new memories. Happy memories." Ron knew that he had never loved Hermione more than in that moment.

He kissed her once again before replying, "Deal."

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><p><strong>I got the idea for this while I was browsing the official Harry Potter store on the WB website. The exact replica of Hermione's Yule Ball dress could be yours for the price of $324.95<strong>

**Uhh... no thanks.**


	3. Chapter 3

Ron was dreaming. He knew he was dreaming because of the weird shapes and colors dancing around in his mind, coming together in the most serene way. But beyond the calming colors that he saw, Ron knew he was dreaming because of the complete and utter silence that rarely filled his everyday, real life. Between the twins' joke shop, his regular job, the Weasley clan and his own beautiful, yet loud, children, quiet was something that Ron never fully enjoyed. Until he was asleep.

Something was happening though. He could sense that it wasn't good. He felt something pulling him out of the beautiful silence that he always craved and bringing him back to the noise-filled environment that was his reality.

He groggily opened his eyes and gave them a minute to adjust to the darkness in his bedroom. When they did, he could make out Hermione's form, sleeping soundly next to him. What he also saw though, as he looked toward the door of his bedroom, was a pyjama-clad little redhead, clutching a well-worn Teddy bear to her chest and crying quietly while she looked in the direction that she knew her parents' bed to be in. She looked terrified and Ron immediately reached for the Deluminator that he always kept on his nightstand in case of emergency. He grabbed his wand which was also on the nightstand for the same purpose.

"Rosie? What's wrong?" he whispered so as not to wake Hermione. Although, the chances of that actually happening were rather slim. The woman slept like the dead. Ron guessed she deserved it after all the years of always sleeping with one eye open. He however could never break the habit. Somehow, he doubted that Harry could either.

"I had a bad dream," she whispered back. She hadn't left her spot by the door and the look on her face was getting more and more heartbreaking for Ron to look at.

"Well that's easily fixed," he said cheerfully, trying to cheer her up. He walked over to her and scooped her up into his arms, giving her a loud, sloppy kiss on her cheek in the process, causing her to let out an adorable giggle. "You can squeeze in with us tonight. Daddy will protect you."

Once the little girl was settled in next to his wife, Ron tucked the covers under her chin and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before sitting down on the edge of the bed next to her. He watched as her eyes fell slowly and she drifted off to sleep easily.

This night reminded him of a night similar some ten years ago.

He was lying in his small bed in The Burrow, Harry in his own bed beside him. He knew that Harry wasn't sleeping just like Harry knew Ron wasn't sleeping. They didn't speak to each other. It was too soon for talking.

Ron's ears had perked up when he heard the door creak open slowly. He saw Harry's hand tighten around his wand that he slept with under his pillow every night. Ron had assumed that Harry thought, like himself, that they were not out of immediate danger just because the war was over. They both believed it was too good to be true. And so they were constantly on edge, always waiting for something else to happen.

But the person that had wandered into their bedroom that night was not a threat. It was Hermione. Wearing flannel pyjamas that must have been too hot for the unusually warm weather outside, she had made her way over to Ron's bed. She either didn't know Harry was awake or she chose to ignore him completely.

"Can you move over?" she had asked him while reaching for the covers. Ron had just looked at her in confusion. "I had a bad dream, I can't sleep. Can I stay here?" Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he registered the fact that she was asking permission to sleep in _his _bed and not Harry's and that had made him happy, though he ignored it. He had continued to look at her in shock and she must have understood. "I just think I'll sleep better with you and Harry in the room. Please?" Hermione had looked at him cautiously, almost as if she was embarrassed to have been caught in a moment of weakness.

Without another word, Ron had scooted as much as he possibly could without falling off the tiny bed and made room for her to slide in. Of all the times he had thought about Hermione Granger in his bed, he never imagined that it would be under these circumstances. He couldn't even enjoy it properly.

They had both laid there for a while, on their backs, staring at the ceiling of his bedroom. They hadn't spoken much since everything had happened. Either from awkwardness or fear, Ron didn't know which, they had yet to speak about the kiss. He had wondered what Hermione was thinking about. Was she still scared? Was sleeping in his bed really better than sleeping in her own? Most importantly, how was he supposed to sleep when she was so close to him? Their limbs were practically touching, after all.

After a while, Ron had finally mustered up the courage to speak to Hermione. He had wondered briefly if Harry was still awake or if exhaustion had completely overtaken him but then reminded himself that he didn't really care. He needed to speak to her. He had turned on his side and faced her then.

"What do you see when you dream? What makes you scared to close your eyes?"

She had sighed and closed her eyes. Ron hadn't meant to upset her but he was rather curious and wanted to comfort her in any way that he could. If only he could get more information, to know what he was dealing with.

"I see things that no one should have to see," she had whispered after a while. And Ron completely understood. For they had all seen things and experienced things that were too much for anyone, at any age, to handle. He had wondered, briefly, if it was all even worth it just as Hermione cut off his train of thought. "But you know what? I'm glad we saw them. This way, no one else will have to."

He looked at her in amazement just then. This woman had sacrificed everything, to accompany Harry on what was basically, in Ron's opinion, a suicide mission. She had never once complained. She had been hurt and tortured. She had put aside all her fears and worries and become the most logical and reasonable of the three. She had taken care of them. And suddenly, Ron was seeing a whole new Hermione. A Hermione that, he was sure, was always there, but that was only now visible to him. How could he have overlooked this part of her for so long?

"You're the most selfless person I know," he had said after a while. "You're amazing. And you don't deserve this. You deserve so much more."

Instead of responding, Hermione had shot him a tired smile and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "I'm tired. Let's sleep." Ron had recognized her embarrassment and chose not to add anything. Instead, he had draped his arm across her body before falling into the most comfortable sleep he'd had in weeks.

Now, looking at his daughter, Ron could see many similarities between her and her mother. He was so grateful and lucky for that.

Before he could think of much else, he felt the bed move slightly and noticed that Hermione had turned over onto her other side and was looking at him with tired eyes.

"Bad dream?" she asked motioning towards their daughter, sleeping comfortably and soundly. Ron simply nodded in response, too caught up in his train of thought to respond properly. He watched as Hermione pushed their daughter's hair out of her eyes and placed a light kiss on her cheek.

"I still dream," she said quietly, almost as if she didn't want him to hear. "I dream about all the awful things we saw back then. But the difference between now and then is this," she said while looking down at her daughter. "Now, I have you and Rose and Hugo and this makes all _that_ worth it."

Just like that night many years ago, instead of answering her, Ron kissed her gently before climbing back into bed and falling into a comfortable sleep.

_It was all worth it, _he reminded himself.

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><p>Thank you!<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Ron turned over in frustration for what felt like the tenth time in the past twenty minutes. He had already gotten up to get a glass of water, walked around a bit and even checked on the kids. It wasn't that he didn't feel tired. He was exhausted after a long day at work and the last thing he thought he would be doing when he got home that night was willing his mind to shut off so he could catch some sleep. He thought it was a given that it just _would_ after the day he'd had.

Sighing, he propped himself up on his elbow and punched the pillow before flopping down into it, head first.

"Stop fidgeting" he heard. Ron knew enough about his wife to know that she was irritated.

"I'm sorry, but I can't sleep."

"Yes, I gathered," she said with a _duh _tone to her voice. "Try counting sheep"

"Counting sheep? Really? Has that ever worked? For anyone?"

"Well do something because you constantly moving is making it very hard for me to sleep and we have a big day tomorrow!"

Ron's stomach momentarily flipped at the mention of their plans for the following day. Being a very heavy sleeper, Ron knew that something was wrong when he couldn't fall asleep after a half hour. Now, after more than two hours of frustration, he knew there was no denying the fact that the date on the calendar was the cause of all his anguish.

"I'm scared." he admitted to his wife. Years of being with her and living with her had made him open up to the point where he could now share anything with her. There was something about sharing every important moment of your life with this one person that no longer made you feel ashamed or embarrassed by your thoughts and ideas and instead made you _want _to share them, knowing that you would want the love of your life to do the same.

Hermione turned to face him and reached down to take his hand in hers.

"I know," she whispered "It seems like only yesterday she was crawling under the covers, crying over bad dreams."

Ron couldn't help but smile at the thought of his little girl looking to him to chase away her fears.

"And now we're sending her away. Why are we sending her away?"

Hermione scoffed and propped herself up on her elbow in order to look at him properly. Ron could sense she was annoyed.

"We're not sending her away Ron. She's going to school!"

"Well... the school's _away_ is it not?" he asked, frustrated that his wife wasn't getting the point.

"What has you so worried?" Ron turned towards Hermione. The look in her eyes was one of genuine concern.

"I don't know! Maybe that she won't make any friends? That she'll find it to her hard? That she'll be miserable? That we won't be there to protect? That she's leaving me." he whispered the last part, not wanting to admit that he never wanted his baby girl to leave.

Hermione let out a small laugh and sat up, tugging on Ron's hand, wanting him to mirror her position. When they were both seated comfortably she pulled both his hands in hers and tried her best to reassure him.

"Rose is so social, she'll have plenty of friends. We don't need to be there to protect her, she has her cousins for that and you know James and Albus would never let anything bad happen to her. She won't find it hard because she is the smartest eleven-year-old and, let's face it, she _is _my daughter after all," Ron had to smile at that. It was true that his daughter was very bright for her age. It was also true that Hermione's genes had contributed to this intelligence. "And you know that she could never, ever, leave you. She may be far away, but she'll always need her dad. Alright?"

Ron smiled slightly and nodded, wanting to reassure his wife that he would be fine. But both his stomach and heart were telling him that he wasn't quite convinced.

"Now, let's go to bed. We have to be up early."

Ron finally managed to fall asleep that night, not because he was less worried, but because he was so tired and there was no way that he could summon the amount of energy needed to worry anymore. The last thing he thought before drifting off that night was that he would talk to Rose in the morning.

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><p>The next morning, while Ron could hear Hermione pleading with Hugo to get dressed, he stepped into Rose's bedroom. Seeing that she had not noticed him yet, he took a minute to look over her room. He couldn't help but thinking of all the good memories that had taken place in this bedroom. Her first words, her first steps, her first magic, it all happened in this room. Ron coulnd't imagine passing by it every night and seeing it empty.<p>

He noticed Rose closing her trunk and thought that it would be the best time to make his presence known. He cleared his throat and watched as his daughter turned to him with a smile on her face.

"Hi daddy," she said. He'd never been so happy to hear her call him that. Even at eleven, when most girls would have insisted on saying dad because they were grown up, she still called him daddy.

"Hi honey. I just wanted to talk to you before we left. Didn't want to do this in front of everyone at the station." He cleared his throat and sat on his daughter's bed. She immediately sat down next to him, her attention focused on him. "I just want to make sure that you're okay about leaving today."

"I'm fine daddy." Ron knew that his daughter could tell he was worried. Like her mother, Rose was very perceptive. "You don't have to worry about me. I'll be fine." She smiled then and that was the best and only reassurance Ron needed to know that she truly was alright. Knowing that his daughter was happy was enough for him to let her go, no matter how much it hurt him to do so.

"Your mother and I will write all the time. And you tell me if you don't like it there. I'll find a way to come get you if I have to." Ron smiled when Rose giggled and thought that his anguish wasn't so bad if it meant that his daughter would smile the way she had.

"Everything okay in here?" Ron looked up to see Hermione standing in the doorway of Rose's room. When both he and Rose nodded, Hermione smiled and winked at Ron. "Well, let's get going then. We don't want to be late."

Rose skipped out of the room, excitement radiating off her tiny frame.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked when she and Ron were alone.

"I'll be fine," he said.

And he knew that as long as his little girl was happy, so was he.

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><p><strong>My father passed away a while back. Unfortunately, I missed out on a lot of conversations that I think would take place between a father and a daughter, this being one of them. The moment a father has to see his daughter off can't be easy. It doesn't help that it happens so early in Harry Potter land lol.<strong>

**Feel free to leave a review! I'd love to hear about similar conversations anyone had with their dads. I missed out.**


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